AN: Hello! Thank you for taking your time to read this Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys FanFic! This story is really focused on mental illness because in our modern society, there's a huge stigma around it and we really need to end that. I hope seeing your favorite teen detectives grown up and dealing and fighting with their own inner monsters, inspires and helps you talk about it and help you fight it. Of course, there will be a mystery and, of course, romance! Please enjoy and R&R!

Doorways

Chapter 1

5501 Willow Dr. Bayport, New York

1:53 P.M

The unusually chilly September wind swept at her golden locks as she waited outside the door. She looked around with a pleasant smile. The fall season suited the sleepy town of Bayport. The amber's, maroon's, and scarlet's all collided together to create a perfect scene. It had been 3 years since she had been back in New York. It had mostly brought back good, fond memories. Ones of teen detectives fighting crime, saving the day, even times of just relaxation. All except this one…

She closed her eyes shut.

"Frank!"

She squeezed her eyes tighter and suppressed her warm breath.

"Nan..."

Her hands shook, her heart rate sped up.

"Nance—" The cry became muffled by the ear-splitting sound of a heart monitor flat lining.

She opened in her eyes quickly. What was once the sound of a deafening, monotone flat line, was now the buzzer and click of the door to the apartment complex that sat atop of a pizza parlor. She climbed the steps and stopped at dirty, green door that had an old piece of masking tape with the words 'Hardy', plastered on it. Nancy knocked tentatively, while looking around at the grimy surroundings.

"Nancy Drew."

Nancy turned towards the door and smiled. Joe hadn't changed much, thankfully. His sandy blond hair was cut short and pushed back in a messy style. He was wearing a simple red t-shirt that made his muscles pop out. He was built like a bull as he was the brawn to the brains of his brother. A smirk was playing on his face and his light blue eyes gleamed with savvy charm. Joe was still Joe.

"Joseph Hardy." Nancy greeted, copying Joe's smirk with one of her own. He pulled her into a big hug and kissed her cheek. "It's been too long, Nance." It had been three years since she had last seen the Hardy's. They had been working on a case that'd gone out of their control. Looking back on it, they'd all seemed immature, even if they were in their early twenties and recently graduated from college. After it all ended up in flames, the trio became somber. They had officially matured in their professional careers. Nothing in their courses or even past experiences, could have prepared them for that case.

Joe invited Nancy into the apartment, collecting her luggage and coat as they entered. The apartment itself was warm, comforting and inviting, a stark contrast from the outside of the apartment. The whole look of the room was very modern with wooden floors, nice furniture, great lighting and stainless steel appliances.

"Nice place, Joe. Sure looks a whole lot better in here than out there!" Nancy remarked. Joe laughed. "This isn't my workings. If it was up to me, this place would be a pig sty! There's the artist of the masterpiece I get to call home." Joe pointed over to the woman who emerged from what Nancy assumed to be a bedroom.

"Hi, you must be Nancy! I'm Vanessa, Joe's fiancé." Vanessa gave Nancy a warm smile and a light hug. She was short girl with long dark hair and bright green-grey eyes. From what Nancy understood, she grounded Joe and was a sweet, down-to-Earth girl. She had practical reasoning and could be reserved from time to time, but could be as boisterous as her fiancé. They were a great pair.

"It's so great to finally meet you in person and put a name to a face." Nancy said cheerfully, "So, why'd you fly me in exactly, I understand you need help with something?"

Joe and Vanessa shared a look and Nancy saw flashes of melancholy between the two, but before Nancy could inquire, Vanessa turned to her with a smile that attempted to reassure Nancy.

"We should all sit down and talk. Would you like anything to drink, Nancy?"

Tears threatened to fall as she brushed her strawberry blonde hair back. She let out a sigh in her glass of ice cold water.

"I'm so sorry…I had no idea." Nancy whispered, looking down into her glass.

"I think he wanted it that way. He knew he was slipping, losing his grip. He didn't talk to anyone, reach out, communicate. He even stopped showing up to work… but I feel," He took a drink of his black coffee that Vanessa had made him, "You would've been the first person he would've contacted."

Nancy shook her head. This was not the Frank she remembered

"But why me?" Nancy questioned, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"He loves you, Nancy! Jesus Christ, can you not see that?" Joe bit back at her.

"Joe!" Vanessa scolded him for losing his cool.

Tears streamed down Nancy's delicate, rosy cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Nance… but I know you love him too. We saw that a couple years ago, didn't we?" He said with a slight chuckle, gesturing to her left hand, more specifically her bare ring finger.

Nancy laughed as she lifted glass to take a drink. The thought of leading a different life than the one now… it was frightening.

Joe grabbed her attention away from her straying thoughts. "He needs you now more than ever. And I think you do, too."

Nancy closed her eyes and nodded.

"People are calling him crazy, insane, off his rocker… the loss of a beautiful soul, brilliant mind." Joe stopped himself as he choked on his words, Vanessa rubbed his back and laid a consoling hand on his. "That's my brother they're talking about, my other half."

Tears spilled out of both of the detectives' eyes. Joe got up and walked over to the kitchen's dry bar and picked up some manila folders. They were stamped 'classified'. He laid them out in front of Nancy on the coffee table.

Nancy looked up to Joe with a questioning look.

"Medical files. Frank's medical files, that is." Joe clarified

Nancy opened them up and read the medical reports. Tremors in right hand, left leg limps, purported insomnia. Diagnosis: PTSD; Psychosomatic. Joe must've read Nancy's mind because he clarified the medical accounts she had been reading.

"He's psychosomatic. It's all in his head, literally none of it is real. The limping, the tremors, the insomnia, it's his body's physical embodiment of PTSD."

Nancy shook her head and closed her tear-glazed eyes. 'Oh my God, Frank… what happened?'

"So what is the cause of the PTSD? Did it just accumulate over the years and is finally getting to him now or did a certain case do this singlehandedly?" Nancy asked, flipping through the mixed case and medical papers.

"It was the Zappa case."

Nancy's eyes darted up.

"Oh my God, Nancy!"

Nancy tensed up, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Nance! Nancy!" The fire roared and crackled.

Nancy reached to her left side of her ribcage. The scorching and burning sensation stung.

"Nancy? Is everything okay?" Vanessa asked in her sweet songbird like voice, snapping her out of her memories for the third time that day.

Nancy weakly nodded and took a deep breath.

"Where is he?" Nancy asked.

"Zappa?"

"No, Frank."

Joe nodded. "He still lives in his apartment in the city. I visited him last week. The place certainly is… interesting."

"How was he?"

Joe sighed. He sat for a bit, trying to find the right words to describe what he saw. He shook his head. "You'll see for yourself. Here's his address," Joe slipped Nancy a piece of paper, "Stay with him, help him find himself…" Nancy looked down to her lap. Joe quickly caught her attention, "Show him how to love again… get our Frank back"

Nancy got up from the couch and moved over to the bay window that looked out over some traffic and the bay. The reflection wasn't her, but a picture. A picture of a young couple embracing, smiling. Her and Frank. She had that same exact picture in her wallet, on her phone, framed on both her work and home desk.

She turned back to Joe.

"Please, Nancy, you're my only hope, Dad's and Mom's only hope… even Frank's only hope. Please, bring him back." Joe begged, tears streaming out of his light blue eyes. Vanessa, too, was crying. Frank was loved by all.

After the emotional plead, Nancy, herself, was emotional. She silently nodded. Joe let out a breath of relief and profusely thanked her. Nancy took the slip of paper and picked up her luggage Joe had left over by the door.

"Joe,"

The man looked up from his coffee.

"I don't think we should mourn the loss of a beautiful soul and a brilliant mind. It's merely shrouded in haunting memories. And I'd like to believe that behind that dark veil, our Frank is there, waiting to be saved. And I know for a fact, there is still enough time to rescue that brilliant mind and beautiful soul."

Apartment L8, New York, New York

4:58 P.M

Again, for the second time that day, Nancy found herself waiting at a door. In many cultures, doors or doorways were thought to be a new beginning, new opportunity. Yet, as Nancy stood in anticipation of Frank to greet her, she felt oddly tensed and nervous. What would she see behind that door? Would he even open? What had become of-

"Nancy?"

"Frank."

AN: Thank you for reading! Please remember to review!